Harry Potter Poems

Congratulations to Eric Bricker
from Jessup in Maryland. Eric won our Harry Potter bookshelf
contest with a poem entitled ‘Harry’s To-Do-List'.
We saw many tremendous entries and were blown away by the submissions.
Thanks to all the ‘Potter Poets’ who entered. Here
are just a handful of the poems that we’ve enjoyed, including
the winning poem. Read
More Poems.

The Winner!

Harry's To-Do-List

Slay the dragon, get the girl,
Battle evil, save the world.
Quidditch Practice, Quidditch games,
Remember all my teachers' names.
Spend some time with Dumbledore,
Go to potions (what a bore!!).
Dumbledore's Army, help with S.P.E.W,
Brew Polyjuice Potion in the loo.
Yell at Scrimgeour, Curse at Fudge,
Pound Draco Malfoy into sludge.
My life's so full, there's no time to rest,
Oh, Well- I'm Harry Potter;
I'm still the best!

Eric from Jessup, Maryland, USA

Everything

Harry Potter
What is he to me?
A sexy wizard?
An obsession?
An amazing story?
A world to escape to?
A triumphant underdog?
My idol?
What made JKR rich?
The life I wish I had?
All of these, and more.
To put it plainly, I love
Harry Potter
The story.
The man.
The moral.
And the thought.
And what is Harry Potter?
Everything.
Everything to me.

Megan from USA

If You Could Be a Wizard

If you could be a wizard,
Whatever would you do,
Would you go to Hogwarts, Durmstrang,
Or even Beauxbatons too.

Would you keep your soul,
In your diary, or a locket?
Would you carry around,
An invisibility cloak in your pocket?

All the things I've said,
You maybe think impossible,
But no, no, no, never here,
In the Potter novels!

Brin from Lemoore, USA

Ode to JK Rowling and Harry Potter

JK Rowling weaves a tale
Of blood, a scar, and wafting veil
A boy through courage, truth and pain
Finds he has been the one ordained
To fight the evil and most vile
Lord Voldemort, all the while
Finding in a heart most true
The strength to endlessly pursue
The remnant pieces of the soul,
Torn away, that once was whole
Harry is the Chosen One
Who cannot live unless he's done
The one thing hardest in a heart
To kill another, tear apart
These souls from life and leave them dead A final task that he must
tread Our dear boy Harry - wish him well!
As Joanne writes one final spell
We'll say good-bye and sorely miss
Her world of heroes, villains (hiss!)
Friendship, love, betrayal too
Magic wands and potions brew
But we'll revisit and be caught
In her spell of magic taught
At Hogwarts and the heart's true home
A place we dearly love to roam.

June from West Hills, California, USA

Advice From an Enemy

Arrogant and thoughtless
I seriously doubt you'll win
Unless you shut your mouth and mind
"You-Know-Who" will do you in!

Samantha from Woodbridge, USA

Anticipation

Harry flies from book to book,
racing time and destiny.
Final answers coming soon,
but never soon enough for me.

Brigette from Fairfield, USA

How I Wrote 'Harry Potter'

I wrote in wrinkled, grey cafés; a cup
of warm tea, digestives, and sheets of A4.
George Heriot’s squat turrets shadowing cricket
between four houses as balls and boys soar
beside the castle.Across Candlemaker Row

I wrote with my coat wrapped against the wind
in Greyfriars Kirkyard where lichen-covered skulls
leer, marking graves of the massacred with mossy
grins. Before their ogling green eyes, I embraced
the power of loss and love. In one boy

I wrote along the terrace, where rainbow doors
smother under the Hub’s sinister spire,
blackened with metastasizing mildew.
Palm readers, pagan apparel, and Quakers,
while Gutenberg levels a vellum finger.

I wrote as pushchair wheels collided with
glass bottles from overflowing bins,hailing
Potterrow Union beside the aged university
where Long John Silver and Sherlock Holmes
telephoned about what I wrote.

Emily from St. Paul, Minnesota, USA

Quidditch is a Lovely Sport

Quidditch is a lovely sport
In which I play all day
I just love the quidditch court
What I'm trying to say

Is that I want to ride a broom
High up in the air
On my broom I would go ZOOM
As the wind blew through my hair

How I want to feel that snitch
Enclosed up in my hand
Oh, how I love the sport of quidditch
It's the greatest in the land

I feel the urge to throw a quaffle
Through those golden goals
At my obsessions, others baffle
But yes, quidditch completes my soul

Away from the bludgers, I must sway
If I want to stay alive
They speed at you then fly away
And try to hit a different guy

Thank You

Oh my, who would have thought
How my attention would be caught
By a book about a young boy and his friends
And the incredible messages the words on those pages would send
I've watched him grow into a young man
Though I fear what his creator may plan

I have stood there unable to help you
As only faithful readers often do
While you fought to honor your mom and dad
Oh, the intensity of the battles you have had
My nails were bitten down
My tears have littered the ground

I thank you Harry Potter
For the gifts you have given my unborn son or daughter
For the nights of escape you have given me
When life was too hard and I needed to flee
Oh my, who would have thought
How my attention would be caught

Melissa from Charlotte, USA

The Rolling Thoughts of Joanne Kathleen

As she paced around the room,
Who on earth was she to assume,
That soon one day she'd become,
The greatest author plus a mum.

She dreamt of a magical kid,
The mysterious things that he did,
Although he felt so alone,
His friends helped find the famed stone.

Later when he took a look,
He noticed a small black book,
Nothing good, a disappointment?
But then he hears the large serpent.

In his third year, he still had the knack,
For attracting trouble like Sirius Black,
When learning the truth, away went his frown,
Along with his world, it turned upside down.

Then someone put his name in,
They all disappeared, every grin,
All but those of whom where mouldy,
Who else, but evil old Voldy.

The mystery of the Ministry,
And the Educational Decree,
Trying to take care of matters,
Listen as the prophecy chatters.

The wonder of the Half-Blood Prince,
Where could he find some hints,
Then went off good Dumbledore,
What would happen if anymore?

Finally the much awaited end,
Who will die what a crazy blend,
His green eyes are not diminished,
One by one the books have finished.

Scribbling down every last word,
Very clear, not at all blurred,
Having gone that extra long mile,
She closed the book with a smile.